Not Another One Shot About Drinking
by IWriteNaked
Summary: Another drunken night, another regretful story.


**Good evening.**

 **Much love to my Parabatai, DeathCabForMari, for beta reading and beta writing.**

* * *

The night comes in jumbled flashes. At some point, I must have lost my sense of time, and probably my common sense along with it.

Isabelle and I sit down at a small café as I try to piece the evening together. I don't remember so clearly. "So," I begin. "How well do you remember last night?"

Isabelle shrugs. "I didn't drink nearly as much as you did if that's the question."

"I don't remember how I got home," I admit.

"About that..."

"Oh, boy."

An amused smirk spreads across my best friends face. "You got a ride from someone."

My throat tightens, and I'm acutely aware of each beat in my chest. "Who?"

She hesitates for a moment before saying: "Jace Wayland."

I glare at her. "Jace Crap Casserole Wayland?! Why would I do that?"

"I'm guessing it's because you had a lot to talk about." She shrugs.

"What could I possibly have to talk about with that Poop Panini?"

"What's with you and the shit-food insults?"

"He's a feces frappe," I explain.

Isabelle gives me a concerned look. "Be that as it may, I think you should hear him out." She points to something behind me. "I invited him here."

"No," I demand. "Izzy, tell me he isn't standing behind me."

Before she can answer, I feel someone's hands on my shoulders, and lips press against my cheek. "Good morning, sunshine."

"I hate you," I growl, pushing his face away from mine.

"Is that why you kissed me last night?" he teases.

"I would never do that. You're lying."

"No, you definitely kissed me. Isn't that right, Iz?"

"You did," she confirms. "I'm gonna let you two talk. Call me later." Isabelle leaves with a wink, and I glare after her as she goes. I'm pretty sure she could feel the angered look burning into her back.

"Stop glaring," Jace lectures. "I asked her to bring you here so we could talk."

I turn my scowl on him. "Why?"

He gives me a smoldering look. "Because you kissed me," Jace repeats.

"I did not!" I insist. "I don't remember it, therefore it didn't happen. Are we done? I have things to do."

I start to get up from my seat and his normally deadpan expression changes to one of determination, and I realize that he's either _not_ messing with me, or he's a really good liar. "Clary, I just want to talk."

My entire body eases stiffly—hesitantly—back into my chair. "You've got fifteen minutes. I need to meet up with Jonathan at some restaurant so he can introduce me to his new girlfriend."

Jace nods happily. "Fifteen minutes. I can work with that."

I begin to relax, taking sips of my coffee, frowning when it burns my tongue. I set it back down on the mint green coaster. "I don't remember last night, so if you have something to say, you'll just have to say it."

"Do you want me to tell you what happened?" he asks. "I know we don't have the best history, so you probably don't understand why I would want to talk about this…" he trails off, staring out the window to his left. It's overcast and looks like it will start raining any minute.

"Okay, tell me, but don't lie because I'm going to recap everything you say to Isabelle, and she'll tell me if you're lying." I give him what I hope is a stern look.

"Why do you think I'm lying all the time?" The confusion in his voice genuinely astounds me.

"In high school, you told all of your friends that you hooked up with me. Someone told my brother, and he told my parents." Annoyance rose up inside of me, and I had to hold myself back from hitting him. "I got grounded. If history is any indication, you _are_ a liar."

He looks ashamed and takes a long drink from his water bottle. "Okay, I'll give you that," he mutters apologetically. "But in my defense, I was a fifteen-year-old virgin who had a crush on you. I wasn't trying to get you in trouble. I just wanted my friends to stop bugging me about asking you out. I wasn't trying to get you grounded or make you hate me."

The fact that he had a crush on me doesn't go unnoticed, but I decide not to mention it, even though I can feel my cheeks turning pink. "Fine," I accept his explanation begrudgingly. "Tell me what happened."

His blond hair falls into his face when he nods a little too enthusiastically, and he pushes it back out of the way. "Let the records show that I was not drinking," he starts.

Flashback

We were at Magnus' party when Isabelle called me over. You were lying upside down on the couch, and Isabelle was trying to feed you another shot of tequila. "I've already had too much, Iz," you complained. "You're gonna make me puke." But you took the shot anyway.

"Is there a reason you summoned me, Izzy?" I asked.

She looked at me as if she'd forgotten I was there. "Yeah," she answered. "Can you help me flip Clary over?" my best friend's sister requested in a slurred tone. "I don't think she can do it herself."

I stared at you, smiling with your curly red hair hanging down to the floor. Your smile widened when I knelt beside you. "Do you need help, Clary?" I offered.

Your small hand grasped mine, and I was surprised at how strong your grip was. "Jace! I haven't seen you in ages!" you exclaimed as I helped you flip over so you were sitting upright on the couch. "Remember that time I punched you in the face?"

I smiled at you, and you pulled on my hand, gesturing for me to sit beside you. I complied, and you nearly fell on me when my weight shifted the couch. "I remember. Vividly. My nose still aches when it rains."

"That was funny," you giggled.

"Hilarious," I replied, monotone. "You should drink some water," I suggested, and you shook your head furiously, causing yourself to get dizzy and lean against me for support. I saw Isabelle smiling at us, and Simon made a kissy face.

"Water is for sober people," you refused. "I'll never be sober again. Alcoholism is my new career path. I'm dropping out of college to make more time for drinking."

Isabelle leaned over and whispered something in your ear. Even with you leaning against me, I couldn't make out what she was saying. You nodded and looked up at me mischievously. "Hey, do you want to go outside?"

My heart skipped. "With you?"

"Yeah, who else would I be asking you to go outside with?" you asked.

"I don't know," I answered. "Magnus?"

Your eyes scanned the room. "Magnus is busy, so I think you might be stuck with me."

I turned around to see where you were looking and Magnus was up on the table wearing assless chaps and a sparkly purple cowboy hat. "He's the worst. Let's go." I offered you my hand, and you stumbled as you rose to your feet. You followed me through the crowded room to the front door, and the cold hit me. "It's chilly. Did you bring a jacket?"

You nod and reach into your oversized purse, pulling a hoodie out to throw over your bare shoulders. "Why don't we hang out more?"

I shrugged, nonchalant. "Because you hate me," I reminded you.

You looked up at me, your green eyes reflecting the moonlight, and your lips forming a pout. "I don't hate you."

"Clary, you punched me in the face, and you have literally pulled out chunks of my hair." I turned to face you, my back resting against the railing of Magnus' porch. "You tell me that you hate me all the time. I'm actually really confused as to why you wanted me to come out here with you."

You reached for me like a child reaching out to their parent, a look of pure contentment spreading across your face. I let you take my hand. "Izzy told me to."

"Why? What's she planning? Is she gonna do something to Alec?" I started to head toward the door, determined to warn my best friend that he was in danger, but you grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to you.

"She's not going to do anything to Alec," you clarified. "She just knows the truth, and she said I should tell you."

"Okay," I said. "What's the truth?"

Your hand trembled in mine. "I'm not drunk or brave enough to tell you."

"I don't know enough to defend you on the bravery front, but you're really, really drunk."

"Can we just walk for a while?" You pulled me toward the stairs, and I followed. "This isn't how I pictured it."

I thought briefly that you might be talking about murdering me. It wouldn't have surprised me if you'd been planning my death all along, and I fully believe that you would want it to be perfect. I was surprised, however, that you continued holding my hand as we walked down the street away from the party. "Where are we going, Clary?"

"I don't know. I want to go home," you whined.

"Do you want me to drive you?" I offered. I looked down at you, and you were smiling. "I haven't been drinking, so I'm safe."

"Where's your car?" you asked.

"I showed up late, so I had to park on the street. It's back that way." I jerked my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of Magnus' house. There was a line of cars along the street, and I hoped no one blocked me in. "I'll let Izzy know that you're going home."

You nodded and followed me back inside to the couch where we left Izzy. She was snuggled up with Simon watching something on her phone. "Hey, Jace," they greeted me.

"Hey, I'm gonna take Clary home. She's tired."

Isabelle gave me the eyebrow, and Simon howled. "Get some."

"Shut up, Semen," you retorted.

Isabelle smiled at you mischievously. "Did you tell him?"

My eyes darted back and forth between the two of you. "Tell me what?"

"You still haven't told him!" Simon shouted. He'd clearly had too much to drink. His thin frame flopped over sideways to lie down on the couch. "Don't be such a wimp, Fray."

"I hate you," you muttered.

"Just tell him," Isabelle suggested. "He already knows that something is up."

You carried on the conversation like I wasn't there. "I don't know how to say it," you admitted.

"Just say whatever comes to mind," Simon advised. His eyes were closed—he was on the brink of sleep. "It'll be fine. Does anyone have any water?"

Isabelle rolled her eyes at him but still passed the water bottle his way. "He's right. It will be fine."

"Okay…" you trailed off and turned toward me. "Can you lean down here, please?" I leaned down so that my eyes were level with yours. "You're really tall."

"I am aware."

"And really hot." Before I could brace myself for impact, your lips mashed against mine. Taken back, I stumbled, disconnecting your lips from mine. I felt the loss instantly as if I'd just removed a vital part of me, like a kidney or a lung.

"Clary," I said breathlessly. "What are you doing?"

I could tell just looking at you that I'd wounded your pride, and if Isabelle could get out from under Simon, I'm certain that she would have hurt me.

"You're lame, Jace!" Simon contributed.

You turned away, covering your face as you headed toward the door. "Clary, wait," I pleaded, but didn't catch you until you were halfway down the driveway. "Wait," I repeated.

You stumbled but caught yourself. "Leave me alone, Jace."

"Why are you mad?" I demanded.

"I'm not mad, I'm _humiliated!"_ you huffed.

" _Why?_ " I puzzled. "You didn't even give me a chance to react properly."

You rolled your eyes and turned to walk away again, but I grabbed your wrist and spun you back to face me. "You pulled away. I think that was a clear reaction."

"It was instinct. You've been trying to kill me since Sophomore year," I reminded you.

"Yeah, well, you deserved it."

"I'm sure I did," I resigned. "Why do you hate me, Clary?"

You tilted your head to the side and grinned. "You're so cute when you're mad."

I ignored your flirtation and moved back to the matter at hand. "Look, I'm sorry I pulled away and hurt your feelings. I was surprised, and also, you're way too drunk to be making that kind of decision," I explained. "I don't even understand why you wanted to kiss me."

"Why is it such a surprise?" you whined. "Haven't you ever heard the theory that girls are mean to the boys they like?"

"In _grade school,_ maybe!"

"Well, I've known you since grade school! I never got out of the habit!" you defended.

"So you like me?" I confirmed.

"Dammit, Jace." You sighed. "Yes."

"Then let me drive you home, and we'll talk about it tomorrow."

 **End Flashback**

"Well, that was...detailed." I laugh. "I'm calling Isabelle," I say, taking out my phone.

Isabelle answers on the first ring, and I ask her to retell the story of what she saw last night. Unfortunately, her story lines up with his. She even adds that I called her when I got home and summarized the whole evening to her. It's awkward.

I thank her and hang up the phone. "So...that happened," I sigh.

"Did you think I was lying?" He asks, one eyebrow arched up.

I roll my eyes and kick him under the table. "You have a history of lying."

"It was high school, Clary," he defends. "You're going to have to forgive me eventually."

"I don't _have_ to do anything."

"You do if you want to live out your Jace-related fantasies." He leans his elbows on the table, his golden eyes smoldering into mine as if he knows

all about said fantasies.

"You're the absolute worst," I grump.

"Probably, but you like me anyway." He shrugs, taking my hand in his, but I pull away.

"You're so annoying. And besides, _you're_ the one who had fantasies realistic enough that you believed they really happened. Is _that_ why you told everyone we hooked up?" I retort.

"They were _very_ realistic. And naughty." He grins, and my cheeks flame.

I groan and stand to leave. "I don't have time for this, Jace."

I try to leave before he can say anything else, but he moves faster than I do, and he grabs my wrist, pulling me into his chest. My breath catches in my throat, and his lips crash into mine. Welp.

That's happening. Sober. Where I can no longer have the luxury of forgetting about it.

When I don't kiss him back, Jace leans back slightly, his breath fanning out across my face. "Why are you so stubborn? I know you want this as badly as I do."

"It's kind of who I am at this point," I answer truthfully. "And I have fun fighting with you."

He groans, thrusting his hands into my hair. "Kiss me back," he pleads.

I shake my head, even though my resolve is breaking. "Why? You didn't kiss me back last night. Now you know how it feels."

"You didn't even remember it!" he complains.

"Yeah, but you described it in detail, so I really feel like I was there."

"You _were_ there!" Jace shakes his head at me and rolls his eyes.

I rock back on my heels. "That's a valid point."

"Valid enough to warrant that kiss?" he asks hopefully.

I pretend to think about it for a moment. "I think I'm going to need to make a pros and cons list," I tease. "I'll get back to you on that one. Jon is waiting for me."

Jace sighs exasperatedly and releases me. I wink and walk out, leaving a disappointed Jace behind in the coffee house.

I'm halfway through lunch with Jonathan and his girlfriend, Mariana, when I get a string of text messages. I wasn't aware that we'd traded numbers, but he is saved in my phone under _Jace_ with a bunch of heart emojis and an eggplant.

The first text is a close up picture of his lips captioned _pro #1._

The second text reads _Pro #2: My mouth remains beautiful and kissable despite your attack on it, and the crippling rejection it faced today._

 _Pro #3: I promise that I'll still fight with you._

 _Pro #4: If you actually hook up with me, you can make me an honest man._

The third text says _Con #1: You'll have to get up from that booth and come outside._

I look up from my phone and peak out the window, seeing him standing in the parking lot, Redbull in hand. I excuse myself from the table, where Jonathan and Mariana have been flirting with each other more than talking to me anyway. They hardly seem to notice my departure.

"Con number two," Jace says, crossing the parking lot. "You're going to have to stop pretending to hate me." He's about to list a third con, but I cut him off with my arms over his shoulders, standing on the tips of my toes, my lips moving in perfect harmony with his.

I get lost in his details. The prickly stubble on his face, the way his hair feels like silk between my fingers, and his smile as I pull away. "Con number three," I say. "My brother and his girlfriend are staring at us now."

Jace smiles gently, his lips curling perfectly at the edges. He takes my hand and we go inside together, grinning like idiots.


End file.
